An emerging “touch starvation” epidemic is drawing alarm among child development experts, warning that young boys in particular are suffering emotional and social consequences due to a lack of physical affection from parents and caregivers. Research and psychological insights now highlight how this deprivation isn’t just a fleeting discomfort—it can leave a lifelong mark on mental health, suggesting urgent shifts in parenting culture, especially as traditional norms face rapid change in Thailand and worldwide (New York Post).
“Touch keeps you alive. It’s crucial,” stated a leading US clinical psychologist specializing in children and families, in a recent interview. The warning is echoed by researchers, including a renowned men’s mental health specialist and department chair at a major US university, who emphasize that boys are subtly taught from an early age to suppress their need for positive touch. This process—often shaped by family habits, social cues, and media—trains boys to avoid physical affection, associating it with weakness or vulnerability.
While physical deprivation is an age-old concern in orphanages and neglected households, new research underscores that even middle-class and loving families can unintentionally raise “touch-starved” boys. Scholars argue that such deprivation can manifest in indirect ways: roughhousing with peers, disruptive classroom behaviors, irritability, anxiety, difficulty calming down, and social withdrawal (Parents.com). These are too often dismissed with the phrase “boys will be boys,” though experts implore parents and teachers to recognize it as a red flag.
Recent studies back up these warnings. Research published in 2016 revealed that boys exposed to healthy, positive physical touch report lower levels of depression and enjoy more satisfying romantic relationships as adults—underscoring the role of childhood bonding in life-long well-being. Conversely, a 2025 Gallup poll found that, in the US, younger men (especially Gen Z and millennial males) report loneliness at rates higher than women or men from earlier generations, an alarming pattern researchers believe is linked, in part, to cultural barriers against positive touch (Gallup News).
Touch starvation—sometimes called touch deprivation or “skin hunger”—is not a new condition in medical literature. Wikipedia notes it as the physiological need for human physical contact, the absence of which can be deeply traumatic, especially during the critical early years of brain and personality formation (Wikipedia - Touch Starvation). Affective touch, according to a recent 2024 medical review, supports emotional, cognitive, and physiologic regulation in infants and young children, with preterm infants and those raised in institutional settings exhibiting clear developmental disadvantages when deprived (PubMed).
In Thailand, the conversation around touch, family, and masculinity presents unique cultural considerations. Thai society values familial bonds, and many parents display affection openly with young children, as noted in expat community observations (Greg to Differ). However, as children approach school age, social norms may encourage emotional restraint, especially for boys—mirroring global trends where displays of paternal affection diminish. Notably, while Western parents express concern about public displays of affection, anecdotal evidence from tourists in Bangkok reveals Thais’ comfort with non-threatening, affectionate gestures toward small children (Reddit). Yet, older boys may still face subtle pressures to appear stoic, particularly in school and peer settings.
Medical researchers have documented that sensory deprivation, especially a lack of age-appropriate touch, can hamper emotional regulation and healthy physiological development. Children deprived of affectionate contact are at higher risk for anxiety disorders, depression, and issues with self-image (PubMed). This concern is best understood through the “attachment theory”, which posits that children’s earliest bonds, often formed through touch, lay the foundation for their future abilities to trust, relate, and self-soothe.
Within the Thai context, a child psychiatry specialist from a major Bangkok hospital (anonymity ensured according to professional reference protocols) explained in a local media interview that Thai fathers, in particular, may struggle to find “acceptable” forms of affection as sons get older, defaulting to verbal support or gift-giving rather than physical warmth. She emphasized, “Healthy physical affection—hugging, hand-holding, a gentle pat—is not just for mothers and young children. Fathers must model it as well, even with teenage sons, within culturally comfortable boundaries.” This aligns with international expert recommendations that touch can be adapted as boys age: a reassuring hand on the shoulder, an arm around the back, or mutually agreed “special hellos and goodbyes” that honor the boy’s feelings and privacy.
As for potential solutions, experts urge parents to engage their sons in conversations about what kinds of touch feel comforting (or uncomfortable), respecting children’s boundaries while reinforcing love and safety. The clinical psychologist cited in the original US article recommends parents ask questions such as, “I need to hug you. Is there a place I can do it where you’d feel comfortable?” This approach personalizes the bond and signals respect for bodily autonomy, which is critical for preventing negative associations with forced or unwanted contact (New York Post).
For educators, the situation is nuanced. International schools in Thailand may implement explicit policies regarding touch for safeguarding reasons, which, while protective, can unintentionally reduce opportunities for trusted gestures of support—such as a teacher’s encouraging pat or handshake. Therefore, school counselors recommend supplementing with verbal affirmation, collaborative activities, and “whole-class” moments of fun and connection.
Within Thai Buddhist traditions, acts of compassion and gentle touch are embedded in temple life—monks blessing children, family members greeting elders with a wai, and playful tussles during Songkran. However, these rituals rarely translate into daily private family routines, especially as urbanization and digital media increase. In Thailand’s big cities, families spend less face-to-face time together—parents work longer hours, and devices create “virtual walls”. International research mirrors this concern: a 2024 review found that loneliness peaks among young adults aged 18–29, many reporting a deficit in supportive social networks (Newport Institute).
The COVID-19 pandemic dramatically accentuated these trends. Stay-at-home orders, school closures, and social distancing kept many children physically isolated, increasing the risk of touch starvation and emotional withdrawal. While a later study from Australia found that physical isolation doesn’t always lead to subjective feelings of loneliness (ScienceDaily), most child psychologists emphasize that young boys particularly need explicit warmth to combat cultural expectations of silence and self-reliance.
As Thailand’s next generation comes of age in a hybrid world of tradition and technology, the role of touch in child-rearing must be seen as a public health priority. Policy makers can encourage awareness campaigns in schools and healthcare centers, emphasizing the science behind affective touch and its influence on well-being. Parenting workshops (sometimes hosted by local hospitals or NGOs) can teach fathers and mothers how to use culturally sensitive, positive touch to foster confidence and emotional literacy.
Looking ahead, neglecting this issue risks compounding existing challenges: rising rates of youth mental health disorders, increased bullying and violence at school, and, ultimately, a generation less equipped to build healthy, supportive adult relationships. A proactive stance—combining family tradition, medical advice, and open communication—will empower Thai parents to raise emotionally resilient sons.
What can parents and guardians do, starting today? Engage boys in conversation about their comfort with touch. Normalize asking—and listening—to their preferences. Model healthy, respectful contact within the family. Reframe affectionate gestures as strengths, not weaknesses, for boys and men. Seek guidance from pediatricians, teachers, or therapists if signs of touch deprivation persist, such as social withdrawal or unexplained anxiety. If unsure, look to cultural wisdom: the balance of warmth, respect, and connection is already embedded in Thai heritage. Reviving and adapting this wisdom can help nurture the next generation—one hug, pat, or reassuring touch at a time.
For more on touch starvation, visit the Wikipedia entry or consult international research from PubMed and health professionals in Thailand. Regular family connection—both physical and emotional—is an ancient and proven medicine that’s as relevant today as ever.